A Compromise
by lrose20
Summary: 007, like the idiot he is, has gone and gotten himself captured. Q seeks out an old enemy to try and rescue his agent, but Silva offers a compromise Q isn't sure he's ready to enter into.
1. Chapter 1

Why the hell did Bond have to go and get captured? Hundreds of missions and he'd always come back. Now he goes and gets captured by some ass arms dealer.

"What you're asking for is impossible! I can't make a virus that controls that much, not in that short of time!"

"And here Mr. Bond was telling me you are one of the best hackers in the world. Did he lie to me?"

Q scowled, glaring at the blank screen where the audio came from. "Look, no one has a higher opinion of me than I do, but I'm telling you, it's beyond even me."

"I'm sure you can figure it out. Must go, Mr Bond needs to lose a bit of size on his ears." The man laughed and disconnected.

Q swore angrily and tossed the last bite of his bagel at the computer screen. If Bond wasn't killed, Q would kill him himself.

A large part of Q had expected to find Silva in some elite hotel, eating caviar and drinking champagne. Instead he found him based on a vineyard in Italy.

"Grazie señor , ciao" The taxi driver said cheerfully, waving and driving out, leaving Q in a cloud of yellow brown dust, bag slung over his shoulder and his glasses now grimy. Perfect. He turned around and swallowed; Raoul Silva stood in the doorway, wearing a blue suit with the first few buttons of his shirt undone and a smirk on his face.

"Well, well, perhaps he's a clever boy after all, hmm?" the blonde said thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down. "Rather sad, when MI6 has to restore to sending its Quartermaster on a suicide mission to bring me in."

Q's jaw set and he said, "I'm not here to bring you in."

"Oh, no? I'll bite" Silva declared cheerfully. "Why are you here then?" he asked, leaning casually against the doorway. Q bit into his lip, swallowing his pride. He had tricked himself into believing this would be easy, and it was the farthest thing from easy. He glanced back at the blonde and then gritted out. "I need your help"

Silva's eyes immediately lit up with delightful and curiosity. "Ooh, Mr Quartermaster, I must admit you have me intrigued. Come in then, you look rather dusty.," he added grinning, and Q scowled, brushing his clothes off but reluctantly following the hacker inside the villa, swallowing hard as the door was closed behind him.

"Come, come, don't be shy." Silva said, not bothering to wait for Q, who was left in te hall with two guards staring stonily at him. He lifted his head defiantly and stalked down the hall after his "host" "Drink?" Silva offered, as if Q was a good friend instead of an employee of the organization that destroyed Tiago Rodriguez's life. Q hesitated and then decided why the hell not. A drink might give him some courage, and so he mumbled out a yes, which Silva's lip quirked at as he poured them both half a glass each of rum. Q took it warily and took a long sip, making the older man chuckle. "Relax you poor thing. Take another drink and then tell me what I can do for you."

Q obeyed, though it did little to help him relax. It made him uneasy to see Silva being so casual. He set his glass down, cleared his throat and said, "Bonds been captured."

Silvas eyebrow rose. "Tsk, how very careless of James. He's slacking off in his old age." had it been someone else saying this, Q might have laughed and agreed. But this was was the man who was responsible for Ms death and Q didn't laugh. Receiving no response, Silva laced his fingers together. "So tell me, what do you need me for? Has MI6 run out of agents?"

"Hardly," Q retorted. "We don't know where Bond is being held and we're on a tight time limit. The arms dealer wants a program to access every armed base in Eastern Europe. Simultaneously."

Silvas eyebrow rose further. "And MI6 is willing to make such a program for **one **agent?"

Q opened his mouth, paused and then flinched as Silva chuckled. "Ohhhh, you naughty boy. MI6 doesn't know? Oh dear, have you perhaps fallen for our dear 007?"

"My reasons are none of your business. I've come here because I can't write something that extensive on my own. Not with so little time. You hacked MI6. I know you can help me"

Silva took another sip of his drink, surveying Q with interest. "Hmm, **can. **Will I, is the question. What's in it for me? I will offer you a proposition."Silva began, licking his lips slowly, the pause filling Q with a sudden sense of dread. "I will make this virus for you, wrap it up all nice and neat to save our precious Mr Bond, in exchange for you. In my bed "

Q stared blankly at him, trying to make the gears in his brain work. "Come now, " Silva said with faint amusement. "Surely MI6's greatest kind can figure it out."

"You, you want to sleep with-"

"Tsk, we're both adults. I want to shag you into the mattress until you can barely remember your own name, let alone James"

Q felt his face warm despite himself. "You want to sleep with me, you want a shag to write a computer virus"

"The penny drops," Silva clapped his hands together, and Q ground his teeth together, Silvas delight grating on his nerves.

"Why?" he demanded.

Silva raised a brow. "Besides always looking for a satisfying fuck? You, my sweet, intrigue me. Something that's got Mr. Bond's attention for so long, someone who was so young when he was promoted. And..." he paused, letting his eyes rake over Q's form, which made an unpleasant tingle form on Q's spine. "You are quite attractive" Silva finished, eyes glinting. He leaned back and finished his rum.

"How can I trust you?" Q demanded. "How do I know you won't just kill me or mess up the virus"

Silva's lip quirked slightly. "You don't. But I won't. I've nothing to gain and really if James is going to die, I want it to be by my hand. As for you, you are far too intriguing and pretty to kill."

"You know, you could work on your whole "trust me" speech. It needs a little work," Q told him dryly. "And I'm a grown man, pretty is not a word that should be used to describe me."

"You, my dear, are avoiding the issue. Will you sleep with me?" Silva asked bluntly, setting down his glass.

Q looked away, Silva's gaze unsettling. He bit into his lip, his mind flicking through his options, weighing them against each other.

He finally looked back and then nodded, unable to form a verbal response. Silva's lips curled up into full blown smile. "So glad to hear it. Now, as eager as I am to see what is under those ridiculous stuffy cardigans of yours, I think a shower is in order first. Feel free to use anything you'd like," he offered smoothly, motioning towards the hall. Q hesitated and then nodded, slowly slipping past the older man and into the hall, trying to not let his apprehension appear so obvious.

Q found the bathroom to be extravagant and very clean. The shower was ridiculously large with a variety of soaps and shampoos that Q had never seen before in his life, most in other languages. He scrubbed furiously at his body, trying to calm his nerves and wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

When Q emerged from the bathroom wearing a light weight robe, Silva was waiting with a drink in his hand. He offered it to Q who took it warily.

"Oh, please, do not insult me. I would hardly poison you before I've even had a taste of you in my bed." Q didn't appear reassured.

"You might have laced it with something. Something to make me more...pliable," was the word he settled on. Silva raised a brow, stepping forward and making Q step back towards the bed involuntarily.

"Believe me when I say, Quartermaster, you need no substances to make you enjoy what I will do to you," he said in such a low voice, it was almost a growl, but not quite. Q felt a shiver run down his spine and was still trying to shake it off when he realized Silva had taken the drink back from him and set it on the table beside him. "I think I do not have the patience for drinks" Silva murmured, eyes gleaming as he placed both palms against Q's shoulders and pushed him backwards. Q fumbled to find balance until he realized he was sprawled on top of the mattress, his arms trapped in the sleeves of the robe. Silva did not bother with showing off, pulling his own robe off with three smooth motions and dropping it somewhere on the ground. Q was too busy staring at Silva's body to care where it had ended up. Silva was handsome, yes, more than just that. But Q wasn't staring at the toned thighs or strong arms. He was staring at the countless scars that covered the man from head to toe, including a long gash right next to his groin. Ever observant, Silva laughed softly, a tinge of bitterness creeping into it. "The Chinese made me into a interesting piece of art, don't you think, dear Quartermaster? My body was their canvas and they were ever so creative. But I'm not writing you a computer program so that you can stare at my scars."

He knelt on the bed next to Q's feet, his hands trailing up the younger man's legs, nails on his skin making Q shiver ever so slightly. "I would ever so much like to wrap my lips around that cock, see you squirm beneath me as I drove you mad with my mouth," Silva commented, so casually, as if they were just having a chat over lunch. "However, I regret to admit that the work done on my mouth makes it a challenge, even without my lovely equipment in there. So I will settle for the next best thing."

"Which is?" Q asked gruffly, though from annoyance or arousal he wasn't sure.

"You sucking me off"

Q found himself pulled up before he could find a response, and rearranged between Silva's now spread thighs.

"Do you imagine doing this to James?" Silva purred, running a hand through Q's thick hair, before pulling on it slightly so Q was forced to look up at him.

"Fuck you," Q retorted, eyes flashing.

"Oof, so touchy. You wouldn't be the first to fall for the dear 007, my sweet Quartermaster. Nor, I imagine, will you be the last." As he spoke, he pushed Q's head down again, a clear command for Q to get to work.

His mind focused on getting that virus and getting Bond out of danger, and he lowered his head to slowly take Silva into his mouth, focusing on just the head at first. Silva groaned low and appreciatively. "Oh yes, you are definitely as pretty as I'd imagined you to be. I wonder if you would be even better for James. Would you be more eager, so willing to please the man? Could you please him, after all the people he's been with."

Q scowled around the head of Silva's cock and took more in, hoping to distract Silva with pleasure enough to get him to shut the hell up. Silva moaned this time, hips jerking, forcing more of his erection past Q's lips. Q was reluctant to admit that it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined it would be. Silva was of course still being a royal arse, but he was not being cruel or violent, and for the most part he let Q set the pace.

It helped that Q had always enjoyed giving blowjobs. If not the act itself, then certainly the reaction he was able to illicit. Silva was certainly losing himself in the pleasure, a hand moving to grip Q's slender shoulder. "Ah, si...Knew you would be good, how could you not be..." Silva groaned and then reluctantly pulled away, making Q blink in surprise. Silva smirked down at him, two of his fingertips running over Q's swollen bottom lip. "As much I would have liked to come inside your warm throat, I fear I am no longer a young man. I must make the most of my release as such."

"The scar, doesn't it hurt?" Q blurted out, glancing to the thin line on Silva's cock that he'd barely noticed beforehand. Silva arched a brow but then shook his head, whilst pushing Q onto his stomach.

"Not anymore. Believe me, it did. I was practically impotent for several years. But after all that was done to me, a scarred cock was the least of my concerns. Now it is just a reminder," he murmured against Q's hair, his hands running along Q's back, tracing the curve of his spine. Q shuddered in spite of himself and Silva chuckled. "It has been a while since someone touched you, hasn't it?"

Q huffed into the mattress, which only made Silva laugh more. "No need to be ashamed, darling. It will make your reactions only more appealing to me." He bent down then and licked a trail over his back, nipping almost playfully at the muscles in his left shoulder.

"You know James and I are not so different, Q," he said, in a low voice, breathing into the younger man's ear.

"You're nothing alike," Q argued, though he felt stupid after having done so. Even he could not deny there were some basic similarities between the two men. But Bond wasn't Silva, he was..."He's different," Q tried to explain.

"Oh my darling, you are so far down the rabbit hole. Ah well, they say love is blinding. Of course, they also say something similar about sex," Silva added, before leaning down and licking a strip of flesh on Q's arse, making him shudder.

"Now then, preparation is certainly in order...hmm, I think I want to see those slim, agile fingers inside yourself."

Q bit into his bottom lip, a hand unconsciously running through his hair.

"Are you shy?" Silva teased, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I just..." Q paused and scowled. "I don't like being watched."

"You may close your eyes if it helps. But the watching will happen, my dear, or no deal."

Q gritted his teeth together to resist arguing. "I'll-I need something to,y'know..."

"You really are shy!" Silva deduced, chuckling. "Oh my sweet, sweet Quartermaster. Of course. I would not ask you to do it dry, that would be very cruel of me." He pressed a kiss behind Q's ear before pulling away and rummaging in a drawer. Q did not bother to try and see what he was doing; he rolled over and swallowed hard, trying to steel his nerves. None of his previous partners had been that interested in watching, far more invested in getting to the actual fucking. Silva returned into view, holding a tube of lubricant, which he opened, smirking down at Q. He grabbed Q's hand, lifted it, kissing his fingers before squeezing some lube onto his fingers.

"You needn't worry about doing things any differently than you normally do."

Q nodded jerkily, slowly bringing his hand down and pushing two of his fingers inside, hissing slightly at the initial sensation. "You-you make me feel like I'm in some stupid porn movie," Q muttered, even as he pushed his fingers in further.

"You're far more appealing than some tart in a movie, I assure you," Silva told him, fingers dancing along Q's chest and then rubbing over his nipples. Q gasped softly, finally pushing his fingers in fully. He did close his eyes then, slowly dragging his fingers in and out, lips parted in a silent gasp.


	2. Chapter 2

Q should have been embarrassed, or annoyed or- really anything but just feeling good. But it HAD been so long. He'd been so focused on work, so paranoid of screwing up. Being quartermaster was no light thing and he had big shoes to feel. This...this felt so good, and though he'd told himself he'd never be the type of person to forget who was his enemy in the throes of passion, it was becoming clear that was exactly the sort of person he was. Silva watched as Q's body got more and more tense, looking down on him with smug satisfaction as the hand that wasn't buried inside himself clenched at the sheets, slipping and clinging as the material slid through his fingers. And then Q forgot all about Silva, as his orgasm rushed in on him, obscuring everything else. He came- and hard, an exuberant groan escaping from his tightly pursed lips.

Somewhere in his daze he felt Silva pulling his fingers out of him, but he was aware of little else- until he felt movement inside that most certainly was not his fingers. He came to the very slow conclusion that Silva had begun to fuck him, without ever giving Q a chance to take a breath. God, he and Bond were so alike, sometimes the similarities scared Q. Neither man did anything half way, and they were both so aggressive, so sure about what they wanted and how they were going to get it. They didn't ask, they took. And Silva was certainly taking. As his orgasm faded, Q become more aware of the other man's movement, firm and precise. When he could at long last open his eyes enough to properly look at the other man, he could see Silva smiling down at him. It wasn't a nice smile, there was nothing comforting or familiar in it. It was the smile of a man who had won, though Q wasn't sure he'd been aware there was something to lose.

"Welcome back to earth," Silva greeted him with, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust. Q moaned, his defenses so low right now, having never gotten a chance to put them back up.

"Do you ever take things slow?" Q managed to grit out, still trying to catch his breath but failing miserably. Silva wasn't relenting, if anything he was moving with more force, his fingers pressing bruises into Q's hips and outer thighs.

"Only when the situation calls for it. And you, my sweet, call for nothing of the sort."


	3. Chapter 3

Q couldn't be bothered to argue with this, too distracted by the relentless movements inside him to form an articulate argument. Silva fucking him was a completely new experience, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Now, Q wasn't vanilla, by no means. Despite his cardigans and youthful appearance, he wasn't innocent or naive. He liked a bit of roughness, hands on his neck, his hair being pulled. He liked drawing a bit of blood when he bit down on his bed partner, and he'd more or less equally topped and bottomed. But with the people he shagged, Q was still always in control. Even if appearances said otherwise. Q would let someone spank him till his arse was red, but he wouldn't let them stay for breakfast.

The lack of control he found himself with, here, in Italy, with one of MI6's most wanted, was appalling. Silva slammed particularly hard against his prostate, making Q swear, all train of thought derailed as his brain was overloaded with pleasure.

"I'm sorry, were you trying to lay back and think of England?" Silva asked with a soft lilt, a bit of sweat on his brow the only indication that he was indeed shagging Q into the mattress, rather than enjoying a refreshing drink on the patio.

"Hardly," was Q's stilted retort, hands shifting restlessly before one twisted itself in the sheets, a vague attempt to steady himself.

"Mmm, what a relief," the other purred, openly moaning at the way Q's body gripped him tightly, not at all self conscious about his reaction. But then, why would he be? This was after all, what he had wanted. "I would hate to think I'm failing to hold your attention."

"That's not possible," Q answered, before cursing himself for having said so. If he'd been a double-O, he would have had the sense to act disaffected, aloof, as much a predator as Silva. But his laptop was stored safely inside his briefcase, at the other end of the villa, and there were no strings of code to give him the advantage here. Now he'd revealed just how much Silva got to him, which couldn't possibly lead to better things.

Silva laughed in delight, a hand absentmindedly reaching around to pinch one of Q's nipples, forcing the younger man's body to tense. "Oh? How wonderful. You're so much more delightful than our dear Mr. Bond. All his training, all his evasion. How nice it is to find someone who can't hide behind mother's old lies."

With these words, Silva began to fuck Q with true force, and what could be argued, violence, nails slicing into Q's lily white skin, cock nailing all the sensitive spots inside the Quartermaster. Fake teeth found his neck and bit down, drawing little pinpricks of blood which were sucked off. Q shuddered and moaned, slender shoulders hunched, unable to gain strength enough to do anything other than take it. A hand found his erection and everything became hot and hazy and another orgasm was being wrung out of him, his toes clenching hard enough to give him cramps. Somewhere in the midst of his red hot pleasure, Silva came as well, the wet, warm flood inside Q reminding him belatedly that he hadn't insisted on protection. With Silva still inside him, blood covering his neck and hips, James still being tortured in some unknown location, Q decided this was the smallest of his poor choices.


End file.
